Candy & Ice
Last word I heard, a very eager Francis and Mom – always up for a ride anywhere – were apparently driving out at 7:30 in the morning to Troy, the dinky little town up north, [at least, that’s how we always remembered it], to see what prize the blue lights offered us.
But as usual, plans alter. Just as the flakes began to float, Francis pulled up the driveway at 8:30 instead, The Bear to replace Mom as passenger. Puck watched the flakes continue to fall, dazed.
“Drink the rest of your water, Puck.”
“I’m not in the mood, Mom.”
He found an expired package of sponges under the sink between eggs and biscuits with blueberry jam. That was all it took.
“Mom! Mom! There’s a sponge for each of us in the family! I made them unblocky. I put water on them! It’s the family circle. We all have one!”
He demonstrated this discovery by washing the kitchen windows and… antique table… I ran for the towel.
We rang The Bear before 9:30 to check progress, as the snow began to stick…
“Yeah,” said The Bear. “I’m going to give Puck the binoculars and Francis said he’d wear the pearl necklace for the rest of his life.”
“I have a surprise for you, Dad!” Puck interjected. “Guess, Dad! Guess!”
“I don’t know buddy.”
“It’s starts with Sp, Sp…”
“I don’t know…”
“Spuh…!!”
“Um…”
“Spun…!!”
“Uh…”
“Sponge!! I found some old sponges and now you have your very own sponge! And I got them all watery!! And now we have a family circle of sponges!!!”
We followed Francis back to the house after stopping over for The Bear’s coffee – nasty habit – and Francis rolled in for a sack of greasy breakfast food. Am I opinionated?… I really don’t care that much at all, really.
“What is your mood today, sir?” I asked The Bear as he waited at the window.
“…macaroni.”
Everyone was ready to go. Except Joe, who would be at Luke’s wedding, and Francis, who had business at the Y and a party later in the evening. I braided Cherry’s horse tail first. Yes, it’s that thick. Then Rose’s, which is long enough again. Joe had taken a test-spin out to the post office, returning with his diagnosis…
“Roads are bad. Don’t take the big green van.”
Snuggles and Stinkerbelle were slugging it out in the kitchen. The girls were debating about long underwear…
We arrived safely, under the graces of many and various “snow shovers”, as Puck called them.
It doesn’t take long to get sucked into the aisles of Nagle’s. Every year they’re a little more crammed with novelties. Every year the owner gets just a little older. Not enough to get old, but enough to seem a little happier about life. I migrated to the peach Australian soaps. Puck picked out a miniature deck of moon-printed playing cards and a Cardinals pencil. Then we all hit up the shelves of candy. Everyone had their own basket to stockpile. How many places sell three-cent candy any more. Or nineteen-cent caramel apple pops. Cricket suckers. Yes, real crickets. Rose took one of those.
We chowed down on bowls of chili with cheese and Fritos at Grandma’s, by her own electric fireplace and a silent episode of Star Trek. Rose decided to stay with the books. Carrie was thrifting with Lucia – always more work to do.
The Florissant ice rink has been in heavy operation for decades. Apparently Dad’s buddy from high school had purchased it a year out of school. High school that is. Dad and Mom both remembered driving over every Friday night in the winter with all the other high schoolers. Hundreds of kids. It wasn’t as popular on this particular afternoon, but a still pretty large crowd had arrived for the 2-4pm skate as the snowglobe fluff continued to fall around the rink. About four dollars covered the two hours and skate rental. The young kid with a flop of blonde hair shyly took the girls’ size orders. He might have walked right out of the 60’s himself. Dad remained stationed in the car, of course.
“Oh, Snicketts!” Grandma scolded him, laughing. “When all the fish are swimming one way, you just have to swim the other direction!”
“You’ve got that right,” Dad grinned.
Puck eagerly waited for his size 13 skates, swinging his sock feet at the bench, the metallic thud of the doors banging open and close from the crowds. He was amazed that he could walk the rubber mats so quickly. After one initial edge around the wall, he took another spin with Mom and The Bear, and by the third round, he was on his own, wall-free, and eager for more. Grandma Combs was very proud.
“Oh, all my friends are going to hear about this,” she declared. “They better watch out when they asked what I’ve been up to.”
He took two popcorn breaks. So did the girls. Free popcorn and soda. Grandma chatted with the mayor. I figured he was probably someone important, judging by the quality of his long black coat. Most of the family was introduced. And Puck, chubby-grinned, made a few more rounds over the whole hour.
We pulled up the driveway just as Joe was walking out the door in black suit and black racing shoes to the New Year’s Eve wedding. Carrie tried to ferret out Rose’s unexplained New Year’s plans…
“Stop that,” Rose retorted. “You know I don’t like questions.”
But she was happy that her Christmas present to herself – a power showerhead and water filter pitcher – had finally arrived in the mail. And we all laughed hard over old family videos again. Dad made a chicken sandwich run. Puck was spending the night in a tent in the living room. A Linnea-and-Cherry-crafted tent involving many blankets, chairs, benches, and the piano – soon to be taken away. Carrie sparkled up Rose’s nails for her party that night…
“What?” Rose squawked, examining the sparklies…
“You’ll like it,” Carrie drawled behind the brush. “Aaaaall the kids are doing it these daaaayz…”
We settled in for an early, quiet evening at home.
And farewell,
farewell again.